


Workforce 2.0

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: "Computer erase Jaffen", Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Episode: s07e16-17 Workforce, F/M, and a little bit of adventure, episode rewrite, there be smut here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: Most of theVoyagercrew is kidnapped and forced to labor in a massive industrial work force. Their memories are erased, and it’s up to Paris, Kim, Neelix and the Doctor to save them. Meanwhile on Quarra, Janeway and Chakotay are working together at the Central Power Facility.Or what would have happened in "Workforce" if Chakotay had been kidnapped too.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 68
Kudos: 139
Collections: J/C Photo Prompt Fic Fest 2020





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Torri012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torri012/gifts), [Bizarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bizarra/gifts).



> Once again I want to thank the very talented [torri012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torri012/pseuds/Torri012) for making the manips that inspired this story, as well as [Bizarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bizarra/pseuds/Bizarra) for organizing this event!
> 
> You can find torri012's manips here: [✧](http://www.bizarra.com/Biz/photo-prompts/2020_prompts/torri012_byebyejaffen1.jpg) [✧](http://www.bizarra.com/Biz/photo-prompts/2020_prompts/torri012_prompt25.jpg) [✧](http://www.bizarra.com/Biz/photo-prompts/2020_prompts/torri012_byebyekashyk1.jpg)

Day bled into night over the churning city. The sun, white and blinding, rose above an empty horizon. Workers filled the streets, walking in unison. Some took underground transports, others vanished behind the buildings. Their steady footsteps made the staircases squeak and shudder.

Kathryn Janeway stared up at the Central Power Facility, its mighty metal frame claiming the sky. Like the beasts of old Terran legends, it seemed to watch over the world beneath it. Kathryn gripped the railing in front of her. A Kraylor man stopped beside her to admire the view. She noticed his blue uniform, the same as hers, and followed him onto a transport platform. The cold steel whirred and whined as it began its slow descent into the belly of the beast.

~

Her station was in the lower levels, following a row of consoles that lined the walkway. Impressed with her level six in thermal dynamics and quantum fusion, the supervisor had allowed her to start working immediately, without further instruction. Leaning over her console, Kathryn tapped on the screen and the specifications she needed appeared. On a whim, she decided to experiment with the numbers and maybe save herself some time; she divided the total by a factor of two and punched in the code.

The computer beeped loudly. “Input error four one five,” its robotic voice declared. “Command code violation two three zero eight.”

Kathryn winced. “Come on, shut off that damn alarm and I promise I'll never violate you again,” she whispered to her console.

Slender fingers flew over her screen and pressed a control. The alarm stopped.

“You almost started a core overload,” an unfamiliar voice said.

Kathryn looked up to find a man in a teal uniform standing next to her. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his dark eyes gleamed in the dimly lit room.

“I would have corrected it,” Kathryn replied defensively.

The man looked down, almost bashfully, and a dimpled smile bloomed on his lips. Swirling shapes had been carved into the side of his face, right above his left eye—a tattoo. Kathryn tilted her head to the side, and for a moment she was lost to those lines, the dark ink against his golden-brown skin, like something from a dream, a memory…

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to your console,” he said, breaking her trance. Perhaps he mistook her momentary surprise for self-consciousness, because he quickly added; “It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I used to have long conversations with my PADD.”

Again, those eyes, finding hers with ease. She imagined him explaining thermionic conversion to a blank PADD screen, and smiled at the endearing image. “Really?” she asked, “What did you two talk about?”

A young woman walked up to them, her cold voice slicing through the air between them. “This station does not require two operators.”

Kathryn frowned. “We were just—”

“Since you are new here, you may not be fully familiar with the labour protocols, but you should be aware that fraternizing is not permitted during work hours,” the young woman interrupted, her icy blue eyes fixed on Kathryn’s.

“You must be the new Efficiency Monitor,” the man said, friendly despite the intrusion.

“Yes, and I suggest you return to your station.”

“He was just helping me correct an input error. We're almost finished,” Kathryn pointed at her console.

“Do it quickly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

As the Efficiency Monitor walked away, the man turned to Kathryn, his arm accidentally brushing against hers. “If you need anything, I work just down there,” he nodded towards his work station, only a few meters away.

“Thank you…” she trailed off, realizing he hadn’t introduced himself.

“Chakotay,” he said.

“Kathryn.”

“If you still want to know what I talk about with my PADD, I can tell you after work,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but grin back, “There’s a little place some of us like to go to, it’s not far from here. We could get a meal.”

_Yes_ , she wanted to say. _Let’s get a meal, Chakotay_. She rolled his name on her tongue, wishing she could say it out loud, wishing she could know more about him. But something in the back of her mind reeled her in. A warning; practiced, rehearsed and performed a thousand times. She leaned against her console, feigning nonchalance. “I appreciate the offer, but with this new job I don't really have time to socialize.”

He nodded slowly, his grin fading into a small, reasonable smile. “I understand.”

She watched him walk away, biting her lower lip pensively. _Chakotay_. Like something from a dream…


	2. Act One

Neon lights blinked above the doorway, flashing over the pavement. Kathryn squinted at the sign warning patrons not to stay out past curfew. She just wanted a warm meal and some place to review her manuals; she had no intention of staying that long.

The doors hissed open and Kathryn walked into the bar. She chose a table facing the large glass windows, although the streets outside were veiled in darkness. Placing her small messenger bag on her lap, she rummaged through it for her PADD.

“Oh, come on,” she muttered, bringing her palm down on the table in frustration.

“Need help?”

It was him again. He wore a jacket over his uniform, and that same charming smile. Kathryn shook her head, alarmed by the flip her stomach did at the sight of him. “No, I’m fine,” she replied, “I forgot my PADD at work. I was hoping to study those manuals, but I guess it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Chakotay reached into his own bag. “I can lend you mine, if you want. I can even help you study.” 

The constant chatter coming from the front of the bar seemed to die down as Kathryn considered the offer. She could find no rational reason to refuse, and even her initial unease was fading away. Chakotay stood, holding his PADD against his chest, patiently waiting for her answer. She was going to be working next to the man every day. _Might as well be friendly_.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” she gestured towards the chair next to hers.

He sat down slowly, prudently. She noticed that about him: the way he moved in the world with infinite care, as if he knew something others didn’t, or spoke a secret language no one else could hear. She looked down at his fingers, wrapped around the edge of the PADD. She could almost convince herself that she knew how they felt, entwined with hers.

Someone laughed loudly at the front of the bar, banging cutlery on the table. They both looked up.

“Who’s that?” Kathryn asked.

“Tuvok,” Chakotay replied. “He’s new here too. Maybe it’s just the way they express themselves on his planet, but he’s definitely not one to hide his emotions.”

“I see.”

“Still want to study the manuals?”

“Yes,” Kathryn nodded, trying to convince herself it was the truth. “Maybe once we’re finished we can get something to eat.”

He paused, lips parted slightly, unable to conceal his delight. “Sounds good to me.”

The silence that followed was filled with sounds from the bar, the night, and the city beyond the black windows. There was an empty space in all the movement; dry land between the waves; an island of sorts. It was this table, in the middle of this crowded bar. Kathryn was suddenly aware of how lonely she’d been; how lonely she’d be tonight, when she’d have to slip into her cold bed and fall asleep alone. She’d endured years of it, this unthinkable loneliness—years and years and years, with no promise of companionship for decades to come.

“Is this the PADD you used to talk to?” she joked, drawing her mind away from the treacherous paths it had taken.

He laughed; a short, sweet sound. “Yes. My old friend.”

She leaned in closer, watching the way his breath came, the rise and fall of his chest under his clothes. Why hadn’t she allowed herself to get close to anyone? All this time something had been holding her back, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She knew the loneliness had been self-inflicted, and that she’d been certain of its necessity. More than anything, she’d held on to that certainty, like a promise, like a responsibility. But why? No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t remember…

“Let’s get to work,” she heard herself say.

It came naturally, her commanding tone. He didn’t seem to mind at all. He nodded cheerfully, activating the PADD. Its light played upon his handsome features, and Kathryn leaned in closer still, certainties scattering like dandelions in the wind.

~

Tom Paris stepped out of the turbolift with a sigh. He hadn’t slept well in more than two weeks—not since they’d returned to _Voyager_ after five days of trading with the Nar Shaddan, only to find the ship hidden in a nebula, crewless except for the Doctor, who now wore command red.

As the ECH had explained to them, a few days ago the ship had hit some sort of subspace mine. Tetryon radiation had forced the captain to order everyone to the escape pods, and the ECH hadn’t heard from them since. Every time he attempted to leave the nebula, alien ships attacked, trying to disable the warp engines. In other words, they were trapped here.

Tom was grateful to find Neelix and Harry in Astrometrics. With the crew gone, _Voyager_ ’s corridors were too empty for his liking.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Neelix turned towards him, shaking his head apologetically. “I've spoken to the captains of eight vessels that left Quarra in the last two weeks. No one knows anything about the crew.”

Tom took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “The Doc said most of our people were working at the main power facility.”

“Which is protected by a shield grid,” Harry said, “We can’t beam them out, even if we manage to re-enter orbit without arousing the Quarren’s suspicions.”

Tom had already given it some thought. “We’ll disable the shield grid.”

“How?” Harry frowned.

“From the inside. We’ll have to go down there ourselves; get jobs just like everyone else.”

“What about the Quarren? They’ll chase us out of orbit. Not to mention the aliens waiting for us right outside the nebula. They’ll have a tractor beam on us before we even reach Quarra.”

“Not if we take my ship,” Neelix suggested.

Tom patted him on the back. “Good idea. I’ll go with Neelix. Harry, you and the Doc stay here and maintain an open comm. link so you can transport us out the moment we shut down that shield grid.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Harry protested, “Shouldn’t we take our time and think this through?”

“We’ve wasted enough time already,” Tom shook his head, determined not to waste any more of it on useless arguments. He couldn’t sit in the briefing room all day when B’Elanna was somewhere out there, lost or trapped… or worse.

Harry seemed to understand; he nodded slowly, and although worry still creased his brow, he tapped his comm. badge. “Kim to the Doctor.”

“ _ECH here._ ”

“Meet us in sickbay in twenty minutes.”

~

Kathryn stood on tiptoe and peered over her console at Chakotay’s station. He was there, tapping on his screen, adjusting the readings. She watched him pause, lips pursed in concentration, before noting something on his PADD.

A sudden alarm sounded through the building, startling everyone. Chakotay turned, and their eyes met.

“It wasn’t me this time,” Kathryn held her hands up innocently.

He smiled. “I believe you. I think it's time for our inoculations.”

Abandoning their stations, they walked together towards a large platform where a line was already forming.

“Protection against ambient radiation, right?” Kathryn said, remembering what the supervisor had told her about the inoculations.

“Yes. We're lucky to have an employer so concerned about our safety,” Chakotay commented.

As they waited in line, she felt his eyes on her. She pretended not to notice, even as she ached to look back at him, to reach out and place her palm against his cheek. They’d been having dinner together at her place twice a week, and even though she burned every single meal, he always came back for more. Sometimes they sat in silence, looking out the window at the starless sky, and in those moments she felt she knew him better than she knew herself.

There was a commotion at the front of the line. Someone was protesting loudly; Tuvok, the man from the bar. He swerved to avoid his injection, wild eyes searching the crowd.

“You,” he exclaimed, pointing at Kathryn, “I know you!”

Everyone looked at her, and she felt a tinge of worry as Tuvok moved closer. “I work here. We might have met at the bar,” she shrugged.

“Before that,” Tuvok said, shaking his head, “Before we were working here.”

“Oh, I don't think so. I mean, we're obviously not from the same place.” She gestured toward her own ears, drawing attention to the obvious differences between their roundness and the pointed tips of Tuvok’s.

He stopped right in front of her and shook his head again in frustration. “Still, I believe I know you. From the hospital, perhaps?”

“What hospital?”

“Please, try to remember. It may be important,” he insisted, grabbing her by the shoulders.

She felt Chakotay tense, saw him place a careful hand on Tuvok’s arm. “I think you might have her confused with someone else. You don't look well.”

“No,” Tuvok blinked frantically, “No, I _know_ you. Both of you.”

Two security guards hurried towards them, followed closely by the nurse who’d been administering the injections. “Is there a problem here?” one of the guards asked.

“I think it's just a misunderstanding,” Kathryn replied.

“He said he was afraid of injections,” the nurse explained, “then he ran off without getting his inoculation.”

The guards pulled Tuvok away, and although he did not struggle, his fingers clenched around Kathryn’s shoulders before letting go. “I don't believe you are who you think you are,” he rasped.

As he was dragged away, Kathryn felt a shiver run down her spine. “That was disturbing,” she told Chakotay.

He nodded. Something settled over them then; deep unease, like the ominous silence of an empty house in the middle of the night. They received their injections and walked quietly back to their stations. Kathryn was grateful for the additional work she’d been given that morning. It would take her mind off the unsettling experience.

She only looked up from her console hours later, when a loud chime announced the end of her shift. Chakotay was waiting for her near the stairs.

“So,” she said, as she adjusted her bag across her chest, “Dinner tonight?”

“Yes, but on one condition: I make it.”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t like my cooking?”

“Oh no,” Chakotay feigned innocence, “Burnt vegetable casserole is my favorite.”

She shoved him playfully, and he laughed.

“Alright,” she conceded, throwing her hands up in defeat, “But it better be good.”

As it turned out, it was _delicious_. Sitting in his living quarters a few hours later, Kathryn had to admit he was an excellent cook. The meal he’d prepared for them—as she’d admired the view from his side of the building—was the best she’d had in quite some time.

“I can’t believe you put up with my cooking for so long.” She reached for her glass and took a sip. Even the wine was better.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t really in it for the food,” he chuckled.

Kathryn set her glass down. She leaned in, resting her chin in her palm. “Then what were you in it for?”

He dabbed his mouth with his napkin, suddenly thoughtful. He didn’t answer right away, but his hesitation was answer enough. She watched him struggle with the words, unable to lie, but unwilling to speak the truth. She knew this table, this scene; as if they’d been here a thousand times. She knew his uncertainty, the shuddering sigh that escaped him, the things he tried to keep to himself, although they were clear as daylight on his face. She knew he was afraid—not of the truth, but of the pressure speaking it out loud would put on her. He would never do anything to pressure her, to add to her burden. He would let her read that truth in his eyes, and do with it as she pleased.

He struggled some more, but she didn’t know what to say either. She shifted in her seat. Perhaps it was possible to let go now, to cover his hand with hers, _will you kiss me, Chakotay?_ Or maybe, _can I kiss you?_

It felt impossible, although he was right there. What could possibly stand between them? The empty plates, the candles and the table she could easily walk around. But what of the fear lodged in her throat? And there was another feeling, something between guilt and punishment, _no, I can’t, I shouldn’t, I have no right._

He cleared his throat, tugged on his ear, sighed. Everything he did was familiar; every movement he made felt like coming home.

“For the company,” he finally answered, although she’d forgotten the question.

It was her turn to speak; to keep going or to take the usual step back. He always gave her the choice. She knew what she wanted, more than anything, and it was what he wanted as well. And if she did it, if she crossed the distance between them, held his face in her hands, what would happen then?

Slowly, he stood up and gathered the empty plates. It was almost as if he knew her silences too; as if he’d heard them many times before. She wanted to offer something in return for his patience, so she blurted out, “I used to have a fiancé, on Earth.”

It took him entirely by surprise. He looked up, plates and forks clattering in his hands. She swallowed, instantly regretting the awkward confession. He would undoubtedly take it the wrong way. Trapped in her own spider web, she had no choice but to continue. “His name was Mark. He left me for someone else a few years ago.”

Chakotay sat back down. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t really a surprise. But it made me realize that I was using him as a safety net, you know, as a way to avoid becoming involved with someone else.”

He tilted his head to the side, only slightly, but she saw it. She also saw the confusion, the hope he was trying to stifle. _You must be wondering why I’m telling you this_.

“You don't have that safety net anymore,” he said, cautiously.

Clever man. He figured it out. “That’s right,” she nodded. “I’m alone.”

It was his hand that covered hers, warm and soft, impossibly familiar. “You're hardly alone,” he declared, his dark gaze holding hers, “and to my way of thinking, there's still plenty of time.”

 _Plenty of time_. Kathryn shook her head breathlessly. “It’s like I knew you even before we met,” she whispered. 

Silence. A sharp intake of breath. He opened his mouth to speak. She stood up before he could say a word, her hand slipping away from his.

“I should go,” she stuttered.

“Wait,” he called after her, standing up to follow her.

She stopped. Although life had taught her to trust her gut, Kathryn had been raised to look at the world with a scientist’s eye. That was what she trusted: logic, reason. None of this made sense. Her reluctance was based on a fabrication, a lie she was telling herself. And why? Out of fear? Insecurity? She would not let that get in the way. She’d never allowed it before. _No_ _missed chances_.

She faced him. There was a moment of stillness. Neither of them knew what to do. Then, like a revelation, she said, “There may be plenty of time, but I can't sacrifice the present waiting for a future that may never happen.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Closing the distance between them, she pressed her lips to his. A second, a heartbeat, an eternity. Alone in this room, together; it felt like breathing again, like coming back to life. Shadows danced around them, but Kathryn’s eyes were closed, and all she could feel was him, finally, _finally_. It felt like she’d been waiting for this forever.

Suspended in time, just the two of them. How it slowed down, time, time without end, _are we floating?_ So many words threatened to spill from her lips onto his. She caught them one by one, in all their honey-gold glory, and kept them tethered, heard them echo within her, _I’ve been so lonely, Chakotay, I’ve wanted you for so long, finally, finally, Chakotay, for years I’ve loved you…_

He melted into the kiss, hands landing on her hips, pulling her closer. Desperate, feverish, burning. His arms around her were like a promise, like a prayer, _more, more, more_. She let her hand slide into his hair and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He moaned, and she felt herself fall deeper still, flames licking her body, the need growing, _I want you_ , she sighed. He kissed her back, tongue and teeth, heat rising between them. His lips, so soft and yet so demanding, moved in time with hers. The smell of his cologne, the firmness of his chest beneath her palm, and the way he groaned when she tugged lightly on his hair, pulling him down to deepen the kiss—all those things were hers now.

They came up for air, breaths mingling, chests heaving, eyes locked. There was a question hovering in the space between them, but Kathryn was lost to the intensity of the moment, to the look of wonder on Chakotay’s face, the tingling sensation his lips had left on hers. Her hand was pressed to his cheek, just as she’d dreamed it, and he turned his head to kiss her palm, her fingers, her wrist.

All of him. She wanted all of him. Right now.

She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he let it fall to the ground. With irrepressible hunger, he kissed her again. They stumbled to the living area, kicking off their shoes. The only light in the room came from the window, where twin moons hung low over the horizon, painting the world in shades of blue. She broke the kiss to help him pull his shirt over his head, leaning in to press her mouth to the newly exposed skin of his chest. Warm, so warm; it was like kissing the sun. She felt his heartbeat, strong, fast, pounding under her touch. She moved higher, from his shoulder to his neck, tilting her head back to leave a trail of kisses along his jaw.

He shuddered, fingers digging into her hips, sliding under her shirt, pulling it up. In one swift movement she removed it, throwing it to the ground next to his. He watched her undress, watched her clothes cover the floor like fallen leaves. His eyes travelled her body—her thighs, her breasts, the small of her back… She smiled at him, and he smiled back, a flush spreading across his cheeks. For a moment, she’d forgotten they’d only known each other for a few weeks.

Smiling still, she tugged at his belt, pulling him close enough to claim his lips once more. His hands ran down her back, feeling every part of her, sliding over her waist, her stomach, reaching down, down… 

“Chakotay,” she gasped.

Outside the window, the world seemed impossibly quiet. City lights flickered in his eyes when he looked at her. Sinking to his knees, he gently pushed her back until she was leaning against the back of the couch. She traced the outline of his lips with her thumb, tilting his chin up to watch the quiet reverence written on his face, and all the things she could almost hear him say, like echoes from another life.

Draped in moonlight, he was beautiful beyond words. She spread her thighs, a silent invitation. He wrapped his fingers around her ankle and lifted her leg over his shoulder. Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his head, lips parting, eyes never leaving hers.

And then his mouth was on her.

Warmth. Pressure. Finding her wet, he hummed in appreciation. His tongue darted out, teasing at first, only for a moment. Her fingers were on the back of his head, holding him there. She braced herself against the couch as she rolled her hips, chasing his tongue. He lapped at her hungrily, and she moaned, throwing her head back in pleasure, _yes, more, I want more_.

He buried his face between her legs, gripping her ass and pulling her harder against him. She inhaled sharply, watching as he sucked her clit into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Her fingernails dug into his skin. The way his arms felt around her waist, desperate and tender, eager and patient, everything at once—it was almost too much. He noticed; perhaps the trembling in her thighs gave her away.

He parted her lips with his fingers and delved in, tongue flicking over her, sliding inside her. She closed her eyes, arching her back. She was so close, and he was so good, and she’d waited so long to feel him like this, to know him like this, _so close_ , she was so close…

Like rain, her release washed over her, and she cried out his name. He held her as she shuddered against him, keeping his mouth on her until she gently pushed him away. She stared at him, at the curve of his upper lip, glistening with her arousal.

“Come here,” she breathed. He stood up and she pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. “I want you inside me. _Now_.”

He groaned, pressing his hips to hers, and she felt him through his trousers, rubbing against her stomach. He lifted her effortlessly then lowered her onto the couch, hands lingering on her skin before he straightened up and finished undressing. She bit her lower lip, eyes drawn to his erection. When he joined her on the couch, she reached down to touch him, to feel him against her palm, hard and throbbing.

“Kathryn,” he moaned, as she pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

She couldn’t wait another second; she had to have him. The moment seemed to last an eternity. It was only them and the city lights below, silent witnesses to their hunger, to their tender collision. Panting, they stared into each other’s eyes as he sank into her, slowly, making them both sigh. She held onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by him, the way he filled her. He was so big, and it had been so long—but she wanted more of him, all of him. Trembling, she slid her hand down his back, feeling his muscles quiver under her touch. He gave a careful thrust, and Kathryn saw stars.

“Is this—okay?” he stammered breathlessly.

“Yes,” she whispered against his ear, “Don’t stop.”

He rolled his hips back until he was almost all the way out, and groaned as he gently pushed back inside. He was _perfect_ ; dishevelled, eyebrows curved upwards in pleasure, his entire body pressed against her, inside her. She tossed her hips back to meet his, over and over and over, and soon the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room. Her name was on his lips, and he was kissing her neck, his body pressing down on her swollen clit.

She wanted to get lost in him, wanted to feel his name burning on her skin.

He shifted slightly, hips moving in circles. The change in position brought him deeper inside her, and they both moaned. His thrusts grew frantic, unrestrained—she felt the couch beneath them shake with the force of them. Her body tensed up and she reached her climax, screaming in bliss. He built up speed, gasping as she clenched around him. _Faster, harder, more, more, more_.

He moaned her name as he spilled into her, hot and deep. She held him, arms around his shoulders, mouth pressed to his neck.

She could have held him forever, like this—just the two of them, until the universe collapsed on itself. 


	3. Act Two

Tom stared at the bottom of his glass, waiting for an answer. He tapped his fingers against the table nervously. The bar was oddly quiet.

“Look,” B’Elanna scoffed, “I don’t know who you are or how you know my name, but I really don’t have time for this.”

She was going to leave, he knew it. And if he didn’t convince her right now, she’d never listen to him again. Panicked, he held her wrist to stop her from leaving. “Wait! I know it’s hard to believe, but you have to trust me.”

Finding her sitting here alone was a miracle. All he had to do was get her to remember who she really was. For some reason he’d imagined it would all come back to her the moment she saw his face. Evidently, he’d been mistaken. Scowling at him, she pushed his arm away.

“This is going too far,” she warned him.

It hurt that she looked at him with such contempt, that she placed her hand on her belly and turned away, as if to protect the baby from him. He’d told her that she was his wife; that the baby was his; that they were serving together aboard the _U.S.S Voyager_. She’d stared at him, shaking her head. It meant nothing to her. She didn’t remember him. She didn’t trust him.

“Please, B’Elanna. Come home with me.”

She slapped him across the face, so hard he fell from his chair. His cheek stung with the force of the blow.

“Don’t come near me again. Next time I won’t hesitate to break your nose,” she threatened.

He watched her walk out of the bar. He didn’t try to run after her—he preferred to keep his nose in one piece. People were staring at him, but he ignored them, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. 

This was clearly the wrong approach. By trying to convince her she’d been brainwashed, Tom had driven B’Elanna away. He couldn’t blame her; the story seemed too strange to be true. He knew it would be impossible to make her listen now. Someone else would have to help them sneak into the Central Power Facility and disable the shield grid.

Sitting at a table near the door, Neelix waved his hand at Tom, gesturing him to come closer. Tom sat down next to him, palm pressed to his burning cheek.

“That didn’t go so well,” Neelix commented.

“Telling her the truth was a mistake,” Tom sighed. “I don’t know what they’ve done to her, but she only remembers parts of her real life, and she got a lot of the details wrong.”

Neelix placed a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.”

In moments like these, Tom wondered what he would do without the Talaxian’s reassuring presence. He smiled at his friend. “Yeah. We’ll get her back.”

With an encouraging nod and a pat on the back, Neelix pointed to the back of the bar. “In the meantime, I think I found our ticket to the shield grid.”

Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. They were sitting near the glass windows, wearing the shiny blue and teal uniforms all Power Facility workers wore. Tom had never been more relieved to see them.

“Good job, Neelix,” he grinned, rubbing his hands together, “This time we take them straight to the Doc. He’ll know how to get their memories back.”

“We’ll have to wait until they’re out of the shield’s range,” Neelix pointed out. “But as far as I can tell, they never leave the compound.”

“We’ll give them a nudge in the right direction,” Tom said confidently.

“There’s just one problem…” Neelix winced. “Not so much a problem as a—um, an inconvenience. It’s actually a little awkward—”

“What?”

“Look.”

Tom turned once again to look at the back of the bar. Commander Chakotay’s arm was around Captain Janeway’s shoulders… and they were kissing. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. They were both smiling into the kiss.

“Oh,” Tom gaped at them in shock. 

He didn’t want to think about what this meant. Right now, all that mattered was getting B’Elanna and the rest of the crew home. They’d have to deal with the consequences later; and honestly, it was none of his business. His duty as a member of this crew was to make sure everyone was safe.

Across the bar, he saw the captain whisper something in her first officer’s ear. Chakotay laughed, holding her hand in his. Tom looked away. Maybe this was just an unfortunate accident; the direct result of them losing most of their memories.

But he had to admit: he’d never seen them look so happy.

~

The workers were filing out of the building, holding their PADDs and bags against their chests like schoolchildren. Kathryn gave her console a light tap. “See you tomorrow,” she whispered absent-mindedly.

For the past week, she’d been distracted during work hours, and every day she’d looked forward to the chime that indicated the end of her shift. She used to enjoy working more than anything else. Now her favorite part of the day was leaving the Central Power Facility.

She knew perfectly well why and when this change had occurred. Sometimes guilt gripped her in the middle of the night, the same merciless chorus of admonishing voices. Shadows would gather around her and she would blink into the darkness, suddenly uncertain. But then she would feel Chakotay’s arms around her, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and that would be enough to silence the voices. She would go back to sleep, listening to his heartbeat, and she would think, _I’d be lost without you_.

Tonight there was a question she had to ask him. She knew it was unreasonable and impulsive and perhaps even a little foolish, but there was a fire in her heart that she simply couldn’t put out. A wildness she didn’t know how to tame.

She forced herself not to look over her console at his station. She enjoyed challenging herself like this, _how long can I go without looking at him? How long can I wait before giving in_? She gathered her PADD and stylus, smiling. _Is he looking at me? Has he been thinking of me all day too?_

Shouldering her bag, Kathryn was about to leave when a hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up to see Tuvok, eyes wide and wet, staring at her dazedly.

“Tuvok,” she said, startled, “You look like hell.”

“Janeway,” he muttered.

“Yes?”

“Kathryn Janeway. It’s you.”

Suddenly his hands were on her face, pressing into her forehead and cheek. She struggled, but he was incredibly strong, pushing her against her console and pinning her there.

“Let me go!” she shouted.

“You are not who you think you are. Let me show you.”

Images flashed through Kathryn’s mind, foreign and yet familiar. A tapestry of stars; space, endless at her feet. A pair of young eyes looking up at her hopefully. Red and black and a flicker of silver on her chest, _ex astris scientia_. She was floating, she was falling, she was seventy thousand light-years away from home…

The images vanished just as suddenly as they had appeared. Breathless, Kathryn held on to her console. Tuvok was being dragged away by three security guards.

“We don't belong here!” he yelled, kicking the air, “This isn't right! We don't belong here!”

“Kathryn,” Chakotay hurried towards her, “Are you alright?”

The world wouldn’t stop spinning. Leaning against Chakotay, Kathryn took a careful step forward. “Yes, I’m alright. Just a little shaken.”

“Maybe we should go to the infirmary.”

“No, I’m fine,” she forced a smile. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she knew she wasn’t about to let it ruin their evening together. “Let’s go to the bar. Get something to eat. There's something I'd like to talk to you about.”

He frowned, obviously concerned. “If you’re not feeling well—”

“Chakotay,” she said softly, squeezing his arm, “I’m fine.”

A sigh. Then a small smile. “Okay.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Let’s go.”

~

They left the bar twenty minutes before curfew. A pair of half-moons lit up the path where a few streetlights had flickered and died. Kathryn and Chakotay walked towards the residential buildings, hand in hand.

The air was heavy with silent confessions. It was almost time to tell him. She knew it would be wise not to get her hopes up, but somehow she didn’t think he’d refuse. There was something between them that transcended all this: the Power Facility, the bridge, the river… they were insignificant. Being with him was like looking down at Quarra from space; every continent a broken circle, every building a speck of dust. She knew he would say yes. She knew it.

So when they reached the gates in front of their building—when she finally turned towards him—there was no fear in her heart. Only pleasant anticipation, and the certainty that she’d found what she’d been looking for.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but he spoke first.

“Let’s not go home yet. I want to show you something.”

Taken aback, Kathryn forgot her question for a moment. “We can’t leave the compound now, it’s too late,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this before,” Chakotay reassured her.

“You’ve been out past curfew?”

“Once or twice,” he shrugged.

Kathryn looked around for security officers, worried they might be waiting just around the corner. She hadn’t expected this, but she couldn’t deny that she found the idea exciting. She knew it was risky—even standing here past curfew could get them in trouble, let alone leaving the compound. And he hadn’t told her where he wanted to take her. Oh, but that only made her want to go even more. Kathryn was excessively fond of the unexpected; eternally enamoured with the unknown. From the smirk he gave her, she could tell Chakotay knew this.

“Lead the way,” she beamed.

A light breeze followed them outside the compound, beyond the walls and into the night. A shiver of excitement ran through Kathryn’s body as she followed Chakotay up a dark path. They climbed a metal ladder and found themselves on an open platform.

Chakotay pointed to its jagged edge. “There’s a gap in the force field right there. Stay as close to the wall as you can and you’ll be able to walk through it. Like this.”

Back pressed to the wall behind him, he slowly made his way to the other side. The force field glistened, transparent, thicker than air. Kathryn shook her head, laughing. “How did you know about this?”

“The new waiter was going on and on about how he’d found a way through the force field. I had to find out if he was telling the truth.”

“Do you think he’s responsible for this?” Kathryn asked as she carefully stepped through the gap.

“He’d need a powerful weapon to do something like this.”

Emerging on the smaller platform on the other side of the force field, Kathryn nodded. “You’re right; plasma beams would be useless against this kind of EM barrier. A particle weapon, maybe?”

Chakotay shrugged. “Maybe.”

It was darker here; so dark that Kathryn could barely see the end of the platform. She squinted, watching as Chakotay grabbed the rungs of a ladder, rusty and thin and probably older than the compound itself. She waited for him to start climbing. Once he was a few feet off the ground, she followed him up the ladder. There were no railings to hold them in; if they slipped, the fall would be fatal.

“We’re almost there,” Chakotay said.

The wind was stronger now. Kathryn clung to the rungs, enjoying the cold air on her face. They reached the end of the ladder and climbed onto the third and last platform. Beyond it, there was nothing but moonlit clouds—and the city below. Thousands and thousands of lights, more than she’d ever seen in her life; neon constellations, the only discernable line between land and sky.

“It’s beautiful,” Kathryn breathed.

The wind whipped strands of hair across her face as she sat down, legs dangling over the edge. Chakotay sat down next to her. Beneath the buildings, the streets looked like rivers. Up above, a blanket of stars sparkled weakly. The city winked at them, sleepless. Kathryn stared in awe, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the skyline.

“I’m glad you like it,” Chakotay said softly.

This was freedom: being out here, just the two of them, higher than everything but the clouds. She wanted this, and a hundred other nights like this. More than anything, she needed it to last. There was an aching in her chest, a feeling she couldn’t quite name. She looked at him, and he leaned in closer, his gentle smile digging dimples into his cheeks.

“I know this is a little impulsive,” Kathryn said, “I know we haven't known each other very long. But I was thinking… if we were to combine our resources, we would reduce our expenses.”

Chakotay tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yes. Or I could move in with you. The view is better from your living quarters. Unless you’re tired of being by my side day and night,” she added, laughing nervously.

She didn’t feel the need to justify herself, but she didn’t want to pressure him into it either. Although she was almost certain of his answer, she wanted him to know that if he wasn’t ready, she would wait.

His hand covered hers, the lightest of touches. He bit his lower lip. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Kathryn.”

With infinite tenderness, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It escaped almost instantly, freed by the wind. All she knew then was the kiss; lips against lips and the sweetest of sighs, softness unlike anything she’d ever known. Eyes closed, heart wide open.

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his skin. “You know, earlier when Tuvok said we didn’t belong here, I found myself wondering if he was right.” She stroked his cheek, pausing to look at him, disarmed by his beauty. “But now I know he was wrong. This is exactly where we belong.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, as if the universe was theirs and they had all the time in the world. Such boundless happiness Kathryn hadn’t dared dream of, and yet it was hers— _theirs_ —now.

They sat together, watching the twinkling city lights. She rested her head on his shoulder. Suspended, drifting; they had no past, no future. Here there could be only now, only this moment. Perhaps they sat there for another few minutes, or perhaps for hours. Kathryn couldn’t tell.

The sudden metallic whine of the ladder startled them. Exchanging a worried look, they jumped to their feet, turning their backs to the city and staring at the place where the ladder met the edge of the platform. Kathryn swallowed hard, fear pressing down on her chest.

A blond head appeared at the end of the ladder. It was the new waiter from the bar, his pale blue eyes wide and searching. He climbed on the platform with them, holding his palms up in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” he said, “We’re here to help you.”

A Talaxian followed close behind, hand hovering over a small device on his chest. Kathryn fought a rising panic. The waiter had told Chakotay about this place, and now here he was. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Thanks, but we don’t need your help,” she snapped. “We were just going home.”

 _Home_. The word made both men nod.

“We’ll help you get home,” the Talaxian said, slowly, as if speaking to a child.

Kathryn frowned. “We know the way.”

The waiter took a step forward. “There’s a Starship up there called _Voyager_. That’s our home. Please, Captain, you have to trust us. We won’t hurt you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kathryn saw the Talaxian tap the device on his chest. Her throat tightened, and her entire body sprang into action. “Chakotay, run!” she cried.

She ran towards the ladder, grabbing the last rung and flinging herself over the edge. She slid down, hands scraping against the metal. Her feet hit the ground with a thud. She crawled through the gap in the force field. Once on the other side, she looked back, but no one was there.

“Chakotay!”

She hurried back the way she came, her terror swelling with every step. The ladder shuddered beneath her, and the wind shoved her to the side. She climbed faster, ignoring the burning in her arms and legs. _Chakotay_. Dread twisted in her gut. She called his name again, uselessly. Her voice was shrill with panic.

She stepped onto the platform. No one was there. It was empty.

The city blinked at her, unmoving, indifferent.


	4. Act Three

Her living quarters were dark. The silence was deafening. She stood in the middle of the room, panting. Clouds had veiled the twin moons of Quarra, and all that remained was the night.

Trembling, Kathryn held onto the table to steady herself. She looked around her, her eyes finding traces of him in every corner; the book he’d wanted to borrow, the painting he’d said was his favorite, the spent plasma relay he’d asked about the first time she’d invited him over. And how he’d joked about the number of empty coffee cups she left all over the place.

Kathryn closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She had to find him. She should never have left him. She should have made sure he’d reached the force field. If anything happened to him…

She stumbled into her bedroom, looking for something, anything she could use to defend herself if the men came back. Her hands flew over her bedside table, fumbling blindly. She opened the drawers, but she couldn’t see anything in the dark.

“Computer, lights.”

The sudden brightness made her flinch. She squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the first thing she saw was her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess and her uniform was crumpled, the sleeves rolled up to reveal bruised forearms. Her blue eyes stared back at her, filled with panic. But right there, just beneath the surface, something else was fighting to emerge. She pressed her palms to the wall on either side of the mirror. The lines of her face suddenly seemed unfamiliar, and when she frowned, she was almost surprised to see her reflection frown back.

 _Captain_. The word echoed in Kathryn’s head. That was what the waiter had called her, up on the platform. She knew it so well, had heard it so many times. _Captain_. It felt like her name. Like a part of her she knew better than the rest; the only part she was allowed to be. And yet she knew she’d never held that rank. She’d never lived that life.

What was this all about? She thought of Tuvok, his insistence, _we don’t belong here_. And the men who had followed them, their voices disturbing the peace and quiet, _we’ll help you get home, a Starship called Voyager_. She’d been terrified of what that meant, even though she couldn’t understand it. Just like the vision she’d had, the vision Tuvok had planted in her mind. Red and black and stars, so many stars…

She wasn’t sure she knew herself anymore. Doubt held her in its icy grip, blurring her thoughts, crushing her certainties. The woman in the mirror shook her head again and again. Nothing made sense. She was alone.

But there was a memory. Chakotay looking at her. _Kathryn, you are not alone_. He’d been there for her. He’d been there, always.

If the entire world fell to pieces around her, he would be her only certainty. Nothing else mattered.

Her eyes flashed in the mirror. She was going to find him. Everything else could wait. Confusion gave place to determination as she straightened up. She knew where to go: the Central Power Facility, on the fifth floor. She could use the subspace transceiver to contact this Starship and demand explanations. This late, everything would be closed—and workers weren’t allowed near the subspace transceiver anyway. It didn’t matter; she would find a way to sneak in.

She wouldn’t let anything keep them apart.

~

“And this is the ready room. Remember?” Tom said, as the doors swooshed open.

He gestured for Chakotay to go first. The commander took a hesitant step inside. Tom followed, holding his breath. It was weird, having to introduce the ship to her first officer. This man had been willing to die for _Voyager_ more times than Tom could count. These bulkheads would probably be nothing but space debris if it weren’t for him.

And yet he looked around him now as if entering the room for the first time. Some things had returned to him already; details from Chakotay’s real life that had seemed to float back up to the surface when Tom had shown him holo-images and personal logs. His father’s death, the Maquis, Starfleet Academy… But it was a slow process.

Tom leaned against the bulkhead, watching as Chakotay walked towards the desk and let his fingers slide along its rounded edge. His eyes found the chair, _her_ chair, and for a moment he seemed transfixed by the sight of it, empty as it was. Then he looked up. The replicator, the couch, the stars outside the viewport. It all stared back at them. Cold, silent. Tom felt out of place in this room, among Chakotay’s scattered memories.

“I was—I _am_ the first officer of this ship?”

The question ricocheted off the furniture and walls.

“Yes,” Tom answered.

Chakotay took a shuddering breath. He looked at Tom, and for a moment he seemed reluctant to say anything more. Inevitably, the moment passed. “Who is the captain?” he asked.

From the apprehension in his voice, Tom realized he already knew the answer. He only needed to hear it.

“Kathryn Janeway.”

In the silence that followed, they could hear _Voyager_ ’s engines humming, a constant reminder of the journey ahead. Tom thought of the bar, the kiss, the two silhouettes outlined against a dark sky, hand in hand. Now Chakotay was remembering too. It was undoubtedly coming back to him, carved in all the cruel shadows that painted the ready room. She was everywhere, in every corner of this ship; _her_ ship.

“I’d like to be alone now,” the commander whispered.

“Yes, sir,” Tom nodded.

He left, grateful that he’d been dismissed. There was nothing he could do or say to make it better. Something wonderful and terrible had happened on Quarra. And although it was none of his business, Tom couldn’t help but feel a pang of worry for his friends.

He spent the next few hours with Harry, talking about everything except their current situation, the uncertainty that loomed over them. He tried not to think of B’Elanna, but it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her, wearing that foreign uniform. Harry did his best to distract him. They were in the mess hall when their comm badges finally chirped.

“ _Paris and Kim to the bridge._ ”

They found Chakotay standing in front of the empty view screen, his jaw set. “We’re going back,” he declared.

Tom and Harry exchanged a look.

“Sir…” Harry hesitated, “Every time we leave the nebula, we’re attacked by alien ships.”

“And even if we made it past them, the Quarrans wouldn’t exactly welcome us with open arms,” Tom added.

The commander’s face was unreadable. All Tom could see was quiet determination. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

“We’re going back,” he repeated firmly, authority ringing in his voice. “Set a course for Quarra, Lieutenant. Ensign, I need you at your station. Inform the Doctor we’ll be going into battle.”

“Aye, sir.”

Exchanging one last worried look with Harry, Tom took the helm. He hoped Chakotay remembered how to command a Starship. The truth was, he seemed perfectly lucid. It was perfectly clear that he knew what he was doing, where he was taking them.

Why he was going back.

~

Kathryn glanced around the corner. Back pressed against the wall, she waited for the guards to disappear behind a power generator before running to the other side of the room. She crawled up the stairs, wincing every time the metal frame whined under her weight.

She reached the fifth floor, heart racing. If she got caught here, sneaking around the Central Power Facility in the middle of the night…

But that wouldn’t happen. Clutching a spent power relay in her left hand, Kathryn looked around her. She could defend herself if she had to. Or she could run. Right now the most important thing was finding that ship.

A red light flickered to her left. The console it belonged to was huge, taking up most of the room: the subspace transceiver. It was only a few steps away. The only thing standing between her and the screen was a security guard.

Kathryn held her breath as she moved away from the stairs. Concealed by the shadows, she entered the room and stood right behind the guard. Her heart was beating so loudly that for a second she feared he’d hear it. With one swift flick of her wrist, she threw the power relay down the stairs. It clanged as it hit the steps, making the guard jump in surprise. He chased it as it bounced all the way down to the fourth floor. Kathryn made sure the guard was out of sight before hurrying to the transceiver. She punched in a code she’d seen the Efficiency Monitor use, and the screen lit up.

A list of ships appeared. The names were mostly Quarran, but there were several alien vessels as well. Kathryn searched for _Voyager_. It was listed under “hostile”. A quick scan revealed the ship’s status: it had sustained heavy damage, but all systems were fully functional.

Swallowing hard, Kathryn pressed “hail”. If this didn’t work—if the people up there refused to give her answers—she’d have to explain herself to the authorities, and she wasn’t sure they’d believe her story. They’d probably think she was out of her mind. Like Tuvok.

A beep. An image filled the screen: the bridge of a Starship. And standing there was a man in a red and black uniform.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn breathed.

It was odd to see him like this, but at the same time inexplicably familiar. He looked more like himself, and yet utterly different. Something had changed. It wasn’t just his uniform. She leaned in to get a better look. The sight of her seemed to devastate him; it took him a moment to recover.

“Captain,” he nodded.

Hearing him say it felt like taking a blow to the face. She blinked back at him, lost. “What’s happening?”

Chakotay stumbled as the ship around him shook: they were under attack.

“Tuvok was right,” he said. “We’re not who we thought we were. We were brainwashed. Our memories were suppressed, replaced with new ones. The Doctor found a way to undo the damage, but it takes time.”

“The people who took you—”

“Tom and Neelix. They’re our friends,” he explained, stumbling again. A glitch made the image on the screen flicker. “I don’t have time to explain: we need to get you and the rest of the crew out of there. Can you shut down the shield grid?”

Kathryn’s mind was reeling. She shook her head in disbelief. This couldn’t be true. Her entire life couldn’t be a lie, a fabrication… _We don’t belong here_. It shouldn’t have been so easy to believe. It shouldn’t have made sense. When she looked up, she felt the walls closing in on her. The beast, trying to swallow her whole.

But what if she was wrong?

“Kathryn,” Chakotay’s voice grounded her, drawing her back into her own body. She looked at him, that face she knew so well. “Do you trust me?” he asked, and suddenly she knew this wasn’t about the shield grid or _Voyager_ or the Power Facility.

It was about truth, and home, and responsibility. She needed to be there, on that bridge. Somehow, she knew it was right. _Where we belong_.

“I trust you more than anyone,” she told him, and she meant every word.

“Then please disable the shield grid so we can transport you out of there.”

 _And then what?_ She wanted to ask. But now wasn’t the time. She trusted him, and that would have to be enough.

“Alright,” she said.

He gave her a small smile—the saddest smile she’d ever seen. The image disappeared, and she was left alone in front of an empty screen. Alone, again.

She heard voices coming from below. The security guards were running up the stairs, closing in on her. She sprinted towards the bridge between platforms: her only way out. Jumping over the railing, she let herself drop all the way down to the fourth floor. She rolled on her side to break the fall. Ignoring the pain in her arms, she pushed herself to her feet and ran. The impact of each footstep shuddered through her as she turned the next corner.

Three guards were standing by a set of glass doors. On the other side, Kathryn could see the even rows of machinery and devices lit from beneath: the shield grid monitor. The guards turned, disruptors aimed at her chest. One of them fired, and Kathryn had to duck to avoid the beam, which hit a console behind her.

The noise vibrated in her bones. The force of the blast had made the console explode. Pieces of glass and metal sprayed through the air. The guards fired again, and the disruptor beam grazed Kathryn’s arm. She gasped, clapping her hand over the burn as she threw herself around the corner again. She wouldn’t be able to make it past the glass doors and deactivate the shield grid.

She ran to escape the guards chasing her, but by the sound of heavy footsteps up ahead she knew she was surrounded. Diving behind a console, she dodged another disruptor beam. There was nowhere else to hide. It was over.

The console beeped once. Kathryn remembered her first day at the Central Power Facility; how Chakotay had helped her fix the input error. _You almost started a core overload_ , he’d said, amused.

A core overload. If she could make the computer think the core was going to overload, it would shut down main power, and the shield grid would go down too. Reaching across the console, she typed in the same code she’d used on her first day. The alarm went off.

“Input error four one five,” the computer warned.

Kathryn grinned, punching in the same code again. The screen went red.

“Warning. Core overload detected. Initiating emergency shutdown.”

All the lights went out. The chime of a transporter beam echoed throughout the Central Power Facility. Kathryn closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was standing in a room she didn’t recognize. She looked at her uniform, torn where the disruptor blast had hit her arm. There was a faint buzzing noise, like the droning of an engine. Kathryn looked up and saw him. He was there, staring at her as if for the first time. As if for the last time.

She closed the distance between them, falling into his arms and pulling him into a kiss. Her hand came up to touch his cheek, to feel the warmth of his skin, _you’re here, we’re together_. She closed her eyes and let everything around them fade to nothing. He was here. They were together. That was all she needed to know. Her lips trailed along his jaw, pressing kisses to his cheek. He did not move, did not speak. For a few breathless seconds, they simply held each other.

Then he gently pushed her away. His hands barely brushed her arms, like he was afraid to touch her. She searched his face for an answer. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Let’s get you to sickbay,” he breathed.

Kathryn reached out to touch his cheek, but he moved away, eyes on the ground. She shook her head, slowly. “What’s wrong?”

She could feel the distance between them, the sudden barrier, like a force field. What was this terrible truth that made him look away—almost in shame?

“Chakotay, what happened?”

He took a deep breath. There was pain in his eyes, in the stillness that had taken over his body. She couldn’t bear to see him like this.

Finally, he spoke. “We need to get you to sickbay.”

“No,” she snapped, fear and anger rising in her chest. “I want an answer.”

“The doctor will help you remember—”

“Look at me.”

He did. And she understood, then, that he was incapable of giving her an answer. It would break him to do so, and it would break everything between them. He’d expected her to know this, to feel the weight of that terrible truth. She wanted to insist, to demand an explanation, but she knew it would hurt him. So she kept her questions to herself. Nothing was worth his pain.

“I want to remember,” she said. “Take me to sickbay.”

As they walked out of the room and into a corridor, Kathryn thought of the night, and the breeze, and the freedom of being at his side, resting her head on his shoulder, watching the city shimmer like sunlight over the river.

~

B’Elanna’s hands were warm. Tom felt them run through his hair and then come to rest on the back of his neck. He pressed his cheek to her swollen belly. Their quarters were quiet except for the sound of cartoons playing on their television set.

“It was terrifying,” she whispered.

He covered her hand with his. “What was?”

“Not recognizing you. Having to live without you.”

She’d told him, as the memories had started to come back, that a part of her had always known she was meant to be with him. It had seemed absurd to her then, so she’d ignored her instincts. It was disturbing and comforting at the same time, to know that she’d felt that way.

He kissed her hand. “It’s over now.”

And it was. For them, at least. Outside the viewport, space was endless. They still had a long journey ahead of them.

“I keep thinking,” Tom said, “What if we weren’t together? What if we couldn’t be, for some reason? Imagine you start remembering things about your life on _Voyager_ , and suddenly you remember that we aren’t supposed to be together. What would you do?”

“I don’t know,” B’Elanna said, pensively. “That’s a weird question.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Tom answered, staring at the stars.

~

Her quarters were dark. He stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back; her loyal first officer. She did not ask him to sit. She did not break the illusion. They would need it now, for a while at least. Some memories were harder to erase than others.

“Thank you, Commander,” she nodded at him, placing the PADD he’d given her on her desk. Reports, inventories, schedules… These were the only things she could allow herself to expect from him.

And yet when he turned to leave, she put her hand on his arm.

“Captain?”

It still stung to hear him call her that, even though she’d regained all of her memories. She knew that hiding behind rank, rules and regulations was wise. It was so much easier this way, with Starfleet protocol standing between them.

But although she called him Commander, he was still Chakotay. Nothing could change the way she felt.

“Are you okay?” she asked, a whisper, a breath. He’d been quiet lately, and spent most of his free time in his quarters. 

He smiled weakly. “Yes. And you?”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

They stood there, facing each other. Too close, not close enough. There were so many things she could have said to him. _One day maybe_ and _I’m sorry_ and _were you happy?_ But all her promises died on her tongue, and all her words felt empty. They had never needed words, after all. They’d always relied on this silent understanding. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs, and it had been enough before. It would have to be enough again.

Kathryn’s comm badge chirped. “ _Captain Janeway to the bridge_ ,” Tuvok’s voice shattered the silence.

“Ready to go?” Chakotay said softly, smiling again.

She looked at him, allowing herself this one moment of weakness. “It may not have been real, Chakotay, but it felt like home.”

His smile faded as their eyes met. Perhaps he saw everything she did not say. Perhaps he knew. He asked anyway. “Do you regret what happened?”

Her answer was immediate. “Not for a second.”

And until she got them home, she would always be chasing that moment—when she could finally rest her head on his shoulder, and watch the city lights fill the night.

* * *


End file.
